


Coming Home

by dbzkink



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fucking, Lemon, One Shot, Oral Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vegebul, Vegeta (Dragon Ball) vs Feelings, Vegeta being Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:23:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22485109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbzkink/pseuds/dbzkink
Summary: After Cell's defeat, Vegeta reflects on his past decisions and decides to visit Bulma.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 19
Kudos: 173





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> I obviously love a good three year gap story, which I always envision as a one night stand because of Vegeta's refusal to save Bulma and baby Trunks during the first android fight (full disclosure, I'm much fresher on the manga than the show, so my "canon" is based on the manga, where there is no GR explosion or monologue about how he becomes super-saiyan). So this was one of my theories for how and why they went from a one night stand where he knocked her up and was a dick afterwards to the relationship they have for the rest of the series. 
> 
> Another random note, I totally had music that I felt was a soundtrack for these scenes playing in my head when I imagined it. So if you're inclined, make a wee playlist (in this order): Carin at the Liquor store by the National, Work Song by Hozier, Apologize by OneRepublic, My Skin by Natalie Merchant. These are all such Vegeta-y songs for me. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Please comment and share!

Vegeta left the battlefield on fire with shame. His fucking pride had lit the match _again._ Not only had he been bested by his own son (which he could almost tolerate because it was its own confusing source of pride) and gotten him killed, but he’d been outdone by that fucking clown, Kakarot, and his pre-pubescent pup _again_. It was insufferable. Vegeta should’ve destroyed Cell when he had the chance, or at least taken a cue from the creature and self-destructed. Hell would surely be more pleasant than this shame. This failure.

So why couldn’t he just end it? Why was he still alive? He was injured, but had managed to skulk home.

Home. He ground his teeth together. He wanted to pretend he didn’t know why he’d clung to life, but that word—home—betrayed his true feelings. Just as going pointlessly berserk had after Cell murdered his future son had revealed his heart. But it wasn’t the boy, exactly, that brought him back here.

He slumped against the wall of the Briefs compound, not ready to go inside. Even the place he now rested betrayed his mind. His helplessness. His weakness. The only softness he’d ever found in himself.

Back then, after the future boy’s warning, he’d thought his training would be enough. He battered himself nearly to death every single day for over a year. The blue-haired woman gave him every technical contrivance imaginable to aid him. Her genius surprised him, but not as much as her ferocity. She took his shit with alacrity and dealt it back fearlessly. The woman delighted him, if he was being honest, which happened more when he was on the brink of death.

After a particularly grueling evening, he’d dragged his sorry, non-super-saiyan ass to the wall beneath the balcony of the quarters the Briefs had given him in the compound. He crumpled against it. He propped his elbows on his knees and his head drooped between them. He despaired. There was obviously some element he was missing from his training, but he couldn’t concentrate. It seemed there was no point to anything he did. He decided to sleep out here for a while until his Saiyan body healed, then he would jump up to his room, clean up, and get back to his training. All to avoid the main part of the house.

He didn’t dare go inside because the woman often sought him out now. Teased him. Touched him, even. And she seemed to wear less and less clothing every day. It was a whole extra form of training not to ravish her. But this morning, he’d fled the compound in terror. He’d smelled her as soon as he awoke. The woman was in _heat._ The animal part of him (the majority, admittedly) came alive for that smell. Vegeta felt feral until he’d gotten out of range.

But now, even cowering outside because he couldn’t control his own mind or body, he smelled her. The scent made his pelvis ache pleasantly. He stayed silent, motionless. He hoped she was just on her balcony, so near to his. They often found themselves bantering across the short expanse separating them. He could’ve jumped easily to join her, but he never had. To be so near to her body and her bed would prove catastrophic.

He glanced up at her balcony, but couldn’t see her. He dropped his head again, crossing his arms to cradle it so he could go to sleep. He had the energy now to jump up to his own quarters: her scent had rejuvenated him, but it also made him feel weak. Weak against his blue-haired enemy. He stifled a groan as he felt her drop down on her knees in front of him.

Soft hands squeezed his forearms, ran sensuously over his upper arms and shoulders. They trailed along his neck and hooked fingers under his jaw. He wanted to resist. It was the best thing he could do for her: to reject her. His mind raced at this thought, because he’d never really considered that she might want him. Her hands were insistent and he looked up, pressing his cheek helplessly into her hand. He opened his eyes, afraid he’d see pity in her aquamarine gaze. There was no pity. If anything, her eyes were burning, determined, full of purpose. He said nothing, only watched her.

She rose up on her knees. Her eyes half-closed as she leaned into him. He let her turn his chin up, still expecting anything but what she did. She put her mouth on his, her lips brushing his open, teasing him into giving her sweet tongue entrance to his mouth.

He uncrossed his arms. His eyes slid closed with the bliss of finally tasting her, even this tiny amount. His own tongue met hers eagerly, raced along the edge of her teeth, and danced with hers. He sucked each of her lips, and his hands, against his will, were on the small of her back, urging her closer.

Her fingers left his jaw and one hand curled around the nape of his neck, pulling him into the kiss. He still couldn’t overcome his disbelief about what was happening. Her other hand trailed down his bare chest like a line of lit gunpowder. Her nail circled his nipple and he gasped into her mouth. Could…could she want more? From him? Some part of him still assumed this kiss was an anomaly, some weird attempt to console him. But now she pinched his nipple as it stiffened. Then she crawled onto his lap, straddling him, and pressing their bodies— _every inch_ of their bodies—together.

His heart thudded as though he were in battle. He tried to control his breathing so he wouldn’t be panting like some crazed animal, even though that was how he felt. She rocked on him and moaned into his mouth before letting her head fall back, exposing her neck as she twisted her fingers into his hair. He let his mouth slide down over her jaw onto her neck, sucked it hard where it met her collarbone. The taste of her skin made him yearn to sample all of her. His hands had ceased taking orders from his brain and they found the deep v-neck of her shirt and ripped it open in a blink. She didn’t wear one of the absurd contraptions most Earth women used to conceal their breasts.

She didn’t protest as he did this. She opened up her chest and arms so he could push the shreds of cloth back off her shoulders. He could no longer contain his own guttural moan as he got his first look at her perfect, pale breasts, gleaming in the moonlight. He held them roughly, pushing them up and together so he could thoroughly tongue each nipple before sucking the right while he pinched and twisted the left.

Still she didn’t stop him. She ground her crotch against his, almost making him whimper with want. He wanted his hard-on out of his shorts. Wanted to feel her bare skin pressed against him if not her pussy. Her straddled position meant the scent of her was all around him. He wondered if she knew she was in heat, whether he should tell her. He assumed she must know, as that would explain why she was bothering with him. Her hormones must be compelling her to do this. He pulled his hands and his mouth away from her body.

Her mouth was by his ear as she whispered, “No, Vegeta, please don’t stop. Please. That felt so good.”

Vegeta was lost. he couldn’t deny her anything and her standards for a mate were likely lowered by the weakling idiot he’d seen her with. He palmed her breast again, sucking hard on the other. He let his free hand clutch her ass, pulling her tightly against his rigid cock. She gasped his name against his ear again and he groaned in response.

She pulled his mouth up to hers, holding his face in both hands, kissing him until they were both panting. He rolled her onto her back in the sweet smelling grass, tearing her shorts off as they shifted. He moved to grip her ass as he drove his hips against her, longing to be inside her. Her ass was bare. He looked down. She was completely naked. She hadn’t worn panties either.

She giggled as he gaped. “Coming naked to find you seemed brazen, even for me, but…” she shrugged and pulled his mouth back to hers.

He loved kissing her, but her body, its exposed, silky skin, called to him. His mouth moved down her neck to her breasts, swirling each nipple before sucking hard as he worked his way down her belly. He shoved her legs apart, looking at her pink folds, crowned with curly blue hair. He kissed her softly, dipping his tongue into her sheath to taste her heat, and the scent of her that had been on his mind since he’d met her.

He sucked her clit, gently at first, then harder, until she squirmed and called his name, begging him to fuck her. His erection throbbed and pre-cum dripped out of him like he’d sprung a leak, but he wanted her to have her release before he fucked her. Then if that was all she needed due to her heat, there would be no longterm consequences.

She gripped his head with her thighs, her fingers clutched at his hair, and she gasped, “Vegeta, oh fuck, Vegeta, yes, yes. Yes!” He felt her pussy clenching. He pushed his tongue inside her, delving deep to prolong her pleasure. She bucked wildly against him and growled, “Fuck me, Vegeta, don’t make me beg! Fuck me! Please!”

Gods, her pleading did something to him. He tore off his shorts. He crawled above her and pushed into her as slowly as he could, dragging out his pleasure once he felt the wet, tight grip of her still twitching pussy on his head. He managed not to cry out, but as he looked into her eyes, some of his despair melted away. He groaned, “Gods, Bulma, you feel amazing.”

She grinned and pulled him down to kiss her. He sank himself into her and held still for a long moment, afraid he would shatter otherwise. Then he began to roll his hips, finding even more length to press into her until she gasped his name against his lips, again and again. Then he pulled out of her until his tip just brushed her lips.

She purred, “I didn’t peg you for a tease.”

He smirked as he bent to take her breast in his mouth. He murmured, “It feels like you like it.” Her pussy gripped him tighter as he said it. He drove his hips hard between her legs and every inch of her squeezed his length. He started to thrust faster, flexing his lowest ab muscles so they rubbed against her clit. He took her to the brink of her release, then pulled out entirely.

She gasped and her eyes flew open. He clasped her body to his and rolled onto his back. He slammed her down on his shaft and she cried out, dragging her nails along his chest as he held her hips. She slapped his pec as she started pumping up and down on him. “You jerk, I was almost there.”

“Mmm…I know. If you want it, come and get it.” He smirked as he curled up to kiss her. Then he whispered, “See if you can make a Saiyan come with that sweet, Earthling pussy of yours.”

She laughed and her eyelids lowered as she looked down on him imperiously. “I’ll have you begging before long.” She slowed her hips. Started rolling them in such a way that Vegeta felt like her pussy was actually pulling on his cock. She arched her body back and held onto his knees, her hips bucking toward him. The view of her pussy sliding up and down his shaft was perfect. And of course the scent of her. And her pert tits bouncing in time with their thrusts.

Vegeta’s dick felt amazing. He was holding his orgasm back out of sheer stubbornness, but he loved that she was willing to play his game, to work for it. He groaned her name against his will, causing her to lift her head enough to smirk at him over her jiggling breasts. 

She was close again, but so was he. So he put his superior strength to use and lifted her off his prick and not a moment too soon: an enthusiastic stream of pre-cum erupted out of his slit. She lunged to kiss him and she was rough, using her teeth. He loved it.

“A stubborn ass, even in bed!” she said as she kissed his mouth more.

He crawled behind her, curling over her delicate body. He licked his fingers and reached to slide his fingers into her slick folds. He caressed her clit, then moved on it in tight, fast circles, nearly vibrating his fingers. He plunged into her from the rear. He growled, “You’re going to come so hard, you’ll thank me.”

She leaned back over her shoulder to let him kiss her. He pulled her hard against him by her pussy, still pulsing against her clit. He used his other hand to play roughly with her nipple as he held her upright. He thrust hard and fast into her now, and she started to plead, “Oh, gods, Vegeta, come with me, come in my pussy, make me come, Vegeta!” Then she started to spasm on him.

He cried out, “Bulma!” as he was shattered by the orgasm that rippled through him. He shook from head to toe as he thrust deeper, releasing his seed inside her.

They pulsed together for another long moment and he lowered them onto the grass. He stayed inside her as they spooned, and he cradled her head with his arm. He kissed her neck and squeezed her body tightly with his free arm. He silenced the words that wanted to come spilling out of him: _I love you. I need you. Be with me forever._

Over a year later, wounded and ashamed, Vegeta recalled that first fateful time with Bulma and burned with self-loathing. Not for the act itself—not for impregnating her, he couldn’t regret that after seeing what a fine man Trunks would become—but for how he’d reacted afterwards. He’d known, of course, long before any stupid pink test, that she would bear his child. But he fled that night, as soon as she was asleep.

Vegeta knew he would be a terrible father. A worthless mate. The best thing he could do was leave the poor, foolish woman alone. She had money, a supportive family, her brilliant mind. He would only be a burden, a barrier to her finding happiness. To finding someone worthy of her.

His self-hatred trebled when, the very next day, as if she had been the key, he achieved his goal of becoming super-saiyan. He trained and trained and trained until his battle with the first two androids. Then his stupidity and shame drove him to be callow and coarse with the only woman who had ever shown him any affection. He failed to save her and his child. Only then did he connect the future boy with that blissful night.

He sat a moment longer collecting himself. Working up his courage. He could smell her now, and the baby too. What would she say if he came to her, begged for another chance to be a proper mate? A proper father? To love her and care for them as best he could, which might be terrible, but he would do his best. She had known all along that his pride was a front, something he hid behind to try not to look at his failures, his loneliness, the crush of not being what he had thought was his birthright. Vegeta knew he would never be the best, the strongest, but maybe he could be…something.

He pushed himself up off the ground. He had failed so much already, what was one more failure? He leapt up onto her balcony. He stood still with shock. She was out here, standing before him, looking out into the night. She turned, startled, and whispered, “Vegeta?” as her hand came up to her chest.

A thousand different speeches had gone through his head for this moment, but words failed him. She was stunning in the moonlight. Her blue hair and eyes glistened like something surreal. Her skin was luminous. He approached her slowly, expecting her wrath or disdain. Her eyes bored into his. She didn’t berate him or push him away, even though he stood so close their chests would touch if he took a deep breath. Which he couldn’t do. He could barely breathe.

Slowly, slow enough that she could slap him away, he brought his hands up and slid his fingers along her silken neck, his thumbs tracing her jawline, and he plunged them into her hair as he kissed her forehead. Waited to see if she would shove him away. She didn’t. He kissed her mouth, and she surprised him again by kissing him back. Her arms wrapped around his chest, clutching at his back. He brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones. He felt the damp of tears and didn’t know whether they were hers or his. He let his hands slide down her arms, pulling them down so he could lace his fingers with hers.

She took hers away and held his face. She pressed their foreheads together and murmured, “You jerk,” but kissed him again. He skimmed her thin shift up over her head, leaving her in a pair of cotton panties the same color blue as her hair. She rocked her hips against his and he slipped his hands onto her ass.

She tugged at his armor, or what was left of it, and he let go of her briefly to tear it and the remainder of his clothes off. He pressed her body back against his as he hooked his fingers in the waist of her panties, dragging them down her legs, letting his hands run along her smooth skin. She rested her hand on his shoulder as she lifted on foot, then the other. He fell to his knees and just held her, with his arms wrapped around her thighs. He needed to apologize, but still couldn’t imagine uttering a single word that would matter after what he’d done.

She ran her fingers through his hair, trailing her nails along his scalp, then she held his jaw in her hands and made him look up at her. She pulled him to his feet and took his hand. She led him into her bedroom, where he had never been.

He stopped, determined to be less of a failure. He whispered, “Bulma, I…”

She kissed him and said, “I know,” against his lips. He didn't know or care why she forgave him, he just kissed her, letting his tongue curl against hers, tasting the tea she’d been drinking, and feeling her breath come faster as they continued kissing. He hoisted her onto his hips and she let her fingertips run along his arms and shoulders and back. Then up into his hair. He squeezed her full ass in his hands and groaned.

He crawled onto the bed, holding her beneath him with one arm, almost spiraling into despair that he had fucked her in the dirt before. But then the smell of dew and green grass came back to him and he thought maybe it hadn’t been so bad for her. Maybe she had known he would fuck it up. Had wanted him, fuck ups and all.

He laid her down and licked his fingers, trailed them down her belly and into her hot folds. He dipped his fingers inside her, feeling the slick, tight heat of her, and he groaned as he pulled them out to tease her clit. Her hips rose up off the bed and she tugged at his hips. He thrust into her, knowing at least he wouldn’t impregnate her this time. He rolled his hips and she moaned, “Kami, Vegeta, I’ve missed you.”

Her words almost broke him, but he plunged into her again and again, desperate for her pleasure and his own release. This time he didn’t have the strength to draw it out. He needed her. He spread his knees wide and rose up, pulling her legs over his shoulders. He gripped her thighs as he pounded into her sheath. He watched her face for any discomfort, but she met him eagerly, clutched at his ass, pulled him against her. Her pussy began to twitch, then she moaned his name, long and low as she climaxed hard. He stared down at her as he came, roaring her name, thrusting more until he was spent.

He sat on his haunches, catching his breath, and enjoyed the view of her in the throes of ecstasy. Her blue eyes slid open and she smiled up at him. He moved so he was above her, but he held his weight off her. He tried again, “I…Bulma, I should never…”

She shushed him, pressed a finger to his lips, then kissed him hard. She looked into his eyes and whispered, “Welcome home, Vegeta.”


End file.
